Time for School
by Shisena
Summary: Trunks and Juunana join Gohan in highschool... Also contains angst. Warning: Shounen-ai
1. Default Chapter

A/N: Torankusu (Trunks) and Gohan are both eighteen. The reason they're both the same age is explained later. WARNING: Contains shounen-ai, meaning male/male.  
  
Also: I'm hopefully getting a beta, so this chapter, most likely, will be altered later on.  
  
"GOHAN!!"  
  
Torankusu woke with a start, jolting upright. Sweat trickled down his bare chest; his shoulder-length hair was soaked with it as well. He was panting, his eyes wide. Looking around wildly, he was calmed as he saw the familiar furniture in his room, his sensitive eyes piercing the darkness. His breathing slowed.  
  
He still had those dreams, surprisingly enough. After all these years. It had been, what, four? Yes, four, if you counted that year in the Room he spent with his father. He didn't have dreams there.  
  
No, that wasn't true. Sometimes he dreamt of the nights he lay in his bed, as a child, listening to his mother cry herself to sleep. Because their Vejita was dead. He sometimes did so, now...he'd never see him, or any of them, again...he himself had destroyed the machine that took him to the past.  
  
To clear his melancholy thoughts, perhaps, Trunks shook his head roughly, his damp hair swatting him in the face as he did so. Wiping the remaining strands of his face, he lay back down, his head sinking in to the thick, soft pillow.  
  
The next morning came a few hours later, finding the young warrior still staring at the low white ceiling. They had gotten a real house a few weeks after he had killed the jinzouningen; well, used, rather. A capsule house, one of the few they had left. His mother was working far in to the night, every night, to make more for other people; Trunks was to distribute them throughout the world.  
  
Not as hard a task as it should be.  
  
His eyes heavy from lack of sleep, Trunks fumbled with the sheets, finally throwing them off him. He willed himself to sit up and rub his eyes.  
  
"It'd help more to splash some water on my face," he muttered absently, standing with minimal willpower. Thank Kamisama the bathroom was next to his room.  
  
Walking as briskly as he could, Trunks made his way down the hall, ignoring, for once, the pictures on the white walls--ones of the Z-Senshi, and instead focused on the bathroom door, also white. He grasped the goldenrod knob and turned it, gently swinging the door behind him. He walked inside, and it closed with a click behind him.  
  
When the cold water was pouring from the faucet, he cupped his hands to catch some, and splashed it on his face, effectively waking him up.  
  
He then went back to his room, and dressed in his usual ensemble; black tank top, beige baggy pants, dull boots, and of course his short Capsule Corp jean jacket. His mother's words of him being extremely unoriginal entered his mind again and he chuckled. Originality and clothes weren't really his priorities. Especially clothes. That was her area.  
  
As was his usual routine, Trunks walked toward the front of the house where the kitchen was, where he knew his mother would be busily cooking their breakfast; she got up early, since she had a lot of work to do, considering Trunks' inherited appetite. He always felt a pang of guilt, but she'd never really taught him to cook, so he couldn't really help...no, she had tried, once, when he was thirteen. Didn't work out to well. He smirked, remembering their attempt to eat his rice. Yep, that's right, he couldn't even cook rice properly.  
  
"Hey, mom," he called with his naturally quiet voice, as he walked in to the small kitchen. "What's for breakfast?"  
  
"Rice, what else?" Buruma answered, turning to him and grinning sheepishly.  
  
"Alright then," he said, also smiling. "Want me to set the table?"  
  
"That'd be great," Buruma answered, nodding and turning her attention back on her rice. Trunks nodded in return, and was soon busying himself with retrieving the dishes and silverware from their respective cabinets and placing them around the large, polished wooden table. Afterwards he sat on one of the two chairs; they were facing each other, and his was always the one facing the stove. Buruma's was nearest it.  
  
He waited patiently as his mother finished her cooking, and jumped up to help carry the two steaming and rather humongous pots of rice to the table.  
  
Trunks tipped one, letting some roll from the pots onto his mother's plate, and then did the same for himself.  
  
"Trunkschan, you know I could have--"  
  
"I was already holding it," Trunks explained hastily, picking up his chopsticks. Soon enough, he repeated the motions, and as he continued to do this until both pots were empty, Buruma watched, smiling slightly as she ate her own rice at a moderate pace.  
  
When he was done, Buruma said abruptly, "Trunks, I don't really want to beat around the bush here, so..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
Trunks looked up from his plate, his dark baby-blue eyes slightly glinting with curiosity. He could always tell when his mother wanted to tell him something; it was something in the way she moved, something that he couldn't quite place.  
  
"Trunks," she said slowly, making sure their eyes met, probably so he would know just how serious she was, "you've been home schooled since you were able to comprehend my teaching."  
  
He nodded again, his eyes now showing surprise. This was new.  
  
"But," Buruma went on, "it was more occasional than constant after you turned ten."  
  
Guilt veiled Trunks' face, along with familiar grief. That was when Gohan had started to train him, though to his mother's objections.  
  
"I know we've started up again, now that you're home from...the past."  
  
Yes, it had been several months since he'd returned. They had been having lessons much more frequently, now (in between his mothers' capsule work in the evening and his 'workout' in the morning until the afternoon), since the jinzouningen were no longer a problem.  
  
"But...I won't be able to keep teaching you, Torankusu--this would be your senior year in high school, then college, and...you can't get a job on a high school education alone, even in this world. People are getting their workings back together, and in five years, things may be as normal as it can be, with out help."  
  
Trunks' eyes widened. He had been quite during her pronouncement only because of how shocked he was. He himself had never given a second thought to an education, especially considering there were no schools.  
  
"There aren't any schools here, mother. And there won't be for awhile, even in five years, and there would be others without a college education...people will hire now, no matter what," he argued. "And I'm needed!"  
  
Buruma sighed, lifting a hand to her head.  
  
"I knew you'd argue," she said [.....]. "But...what about ten years, Trunks? Twenty? The world will be righted by then, I'm sure; there will be schools, and you know there won't have to be to many." Her voice was heavy when she said that last sentence. No, there wouldn't have to be to many...  
  
"I know you want for me to have a proper education," Trunks said quietly. "But---"  
  
"You'll need money someday, Trunks," Buruma interrupted firmly. "Maybe not in the very near future, but someday. Currency will matter again, it's how the world works. There are some places where it was saved, and more is being made! I won't let you go hungry when you're older. And...Trunks, I want you to finally have a good life!"  
  
Buruma was standing now, her eyes flashing, yet filled with tears.  
  
"Mom..." Trunks said quietly, as he stood also. "I...I would, but there's no schools here." He really would, now. He hated to see his mother cry.  
  
"No," Buruma said softly. Trunks nodded sadly, and picked up his bowl, walking to the sink.  
  
"But, Trunks..."  
  
"Yes?" the young man asked, his eyes focused on his bowl as he cleaned it with a wet rag. He didn't turn around.  
  
"I rebuilt the time machine."  
  
The bowl fell to the ground, shattering on impact.  
  
"I'm bored."  
  
"Ugh," was Juuhachi's exasperated reply. She was sitting at the head of the little wooden table in Roshi's kitchen, arms crossed in back of her head as she leaned against the chair. She rolled her eyes at her twin, who was sitting opposite her, arms propped up on his elbows as he leaned against the table.  
  
"Why don't you just rob a bank or something?"  
  
"Done it," Juunana replied simply, shaking his head--the movement was flawless, just like the rest of him. Well, outwardly, at least. He sighed, leaning back and imitating Juuhachi's position.  
  
"Actually, I've done that stuff about a million times. It gets old." His voice was the usual placid monotone as he allowed his lips to curl into a pout.  
  
Juuhachi sighed, lightly closing her eyes. He'd arrived out of the blue--as was usual with his visits--and said shortly that he wanted to talk. This they had just started...and he was irritating the hell out of her. It was wonderful to see her brother, of course--she missed him terribly , even if she didn't show it. He was family after all; would always be family.  
  
He'll probably always be annoying, too...she thought wryly.  
  
Meanwhile, Juunana waited impatiently for her to open her eyes. He knew it wasn't a good idea to interrupt her when she was busy not paying attention. Getting his head bitten off wasn't what he had come her to do, though it was usually inevitable anyway. His twin was so uptight, especially now that she had a family... It was annoying. Though he took pleasure in knowing he grated on her nerves as well. It was what brothers were for, after all, human or otherwise.  
  
Finally, she opened her eyes.  
  
"Listen, Juunana, I--"  
  
"Have no fucking clue how to help me."  
  
Juuhachi looked him straight in the eye. It was like staring into his own.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
He sighed, his own eyes closing, but only briefly. He should have known. But it was his only option, really. And besides, it was something to do besides stare at the wall of his cabin.  
  
Seeming to read his thoughts, his sister added, "Maybe you need a hobby..."  
  
"Humph," was his reply. His eyes narrowed.  
  
"That's so...human."  
  
"Well what did you expect?" Juuhachi answered, her tone exasperated. "I mean seriously, Juunana, is it any more human than thievery?"  
  
Juunanagou contemplated that. She had a good point, as usual. And he hated it, as usual.  
  
Obviously seeing his reaction, Juuhachi smirked triumphantly.  
  
He hated that smirk.  
  
"Well, if you're talking in the moral sense..."  
  
"I'm not," interrupted Juuhachi, tone dry.  
  
"Fine."  
  
Juuhachi caught the annoyed edge to his voice. That usually meant that if he wasn't content soon he'd do something drastic...like, say, blow up a monument. It wouldn't be the first time. More like the fifteenth.  
  
She flinched when she heard the door open, and Juunana all but bolted upward...but it was to late. Kuririn was already entering the kitchen, Marron trailing behind him, her hand in his.  
  
"Hey, Juu, I...I...I..." Kuririn trailed off, his eyes widening almost to the point fo covering his entire forehead...for him, quite a feet.  
  
He'd miscalculated. Usually he arrived only when he knew Kuririn, Marron, and Roshi were gone, and if they would stay gone for a good hour. It seemed Juuhachi's family had arrived earlier than usual from their afternoon walk...or flight, whatever.  
  
"I...er...Um...Juu, you didn't tell me your brother was going to visit..." he stuttered, looking anywhere but at his wife's smirking twin.  
  
"That's because I didn't know," Juuhachi stated calmly, thought the word 'dammit' kept ringing anxiously in her head.  
  
Lowering her gaze, her eyes softened as much as possible for her as she met her daughter's confused gaze.  
  
"Hello, sweetie," she said lovingly, ignoring the fact that her brother was most likely raising an eyebrow in intense amusement.  
  
"Hi mamma!" Marron chirped, releasing her hold on her dad's hand and running up to her mother. Juuhachi smiled, scooping her up to sit on her lap.  
  
Marron cocked her head quizzically after hugging her mother.  
  
"Who's the girl making daddy so scared?"  
  
Juuhachi snickered, and Kuririn began laughing uproariously. That is, until Juunana fixed him with a death glare. The former Z-Senshi gulped nervously, his laughing cut off abruptly.  
  
Juuhachi glanced warningly at her brother, who only scowled in return. She then turned back to her daughter.  
  
"Marron, this is your...well, uncle. Juunanagou."  
  
Marron's face brightened, and she turned swiftly, almost falling off the chair.  
  
"Hi, Uncle 'Nanna!!'  
  
Juunana had an almost irrepressible urge to simply let his head fall onto the table, but thought better of it. Instead he settled with an irritated sigh. He met his sister's eyes and said flatly, "I guess I'll be going."  
  
Juuhachi nodded.  
  
"I hope you find something to do. Of the non-flamable kind,"she added wryly.  
  
Her brother smirked evilly.  
  
"I did that last week."  
  
Juuhachi merely rolled her eyes.  
  
"U-Um...Juunanagou?"  
  
"What?" Juunana asked shortly, turning slightly to face Kuririn. He noted with some satisfaction that the short man couldn't hold his gaze for very long.  
  
"Well...er...you look eighteen...why not...go to school? With Gohan?"  
  
It had come as a sudden idea. He'd stopped by Goku's and talked to Chichi a bit; she had worried that Gohan wouldn't no anybody...of course, having a sadistic android there probably wouln't make her any happier, but at least it would attract some unwanted attention from Gohan. Juunana was much wierder, in Kuririn's humble opinion.  
  
Juunana was getting ready to chuckle, possibly tell his wife's husband what an utter moron he was...but then considered. It would be something...and what was more fun than terrorizing irritatin teenagers, other than blowing up buildings? A slow, vicious smirk spread across his features.  
  
"Not a bad idea." He walked out of the house before his sister could react at all.  
  
Juuhachi was almost fuming as she set her eyes upon her husband. Kuririn winced, and rightfully so.  
  
"KURIRIN YOU IDIOT!!" 


	2. Getting Ready

A/N: Thanks so much to the people who reviewed! ^_^ (By the way: Shadow cat, I would, but I think you can only post a story under two characters. -_-) Also: One mroe chapter until they all start school!  
  
Where on Earth could his mother have found the time to rebuild the time machine?  
  
She would have had to build it from scratch, considering Torankusu had chi-blasted it to peices several days after he had gotten back...  
  
And hadn't she destroyed her plans, or was that a lie?  
  
All this and more ran through Torankusu's head as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed. He remembered his mother commenting many times how much he looked like his father...  
  
And of course this thought made him think of him. The on he'd lost, the one he'd found... The one he'd soon see again.  
  
It made him happy, he couldn't deny that. Especially after what Kuririn'd said... Proof that Vejita really did care about him. He'd love to see all of them again, really... Gohan, no matter how much it made him ache fo rhis mentor. Goku, Kuririn, Yamucha, Tenshinhan, Chaotsu...the younger version of his mother and Chichi.  
  
But it was wrong, his mom had to know that. The last time he traveled back in time, it was to save the world. To save lives... In both their minds, it had justified altering the past. The fact that they had merely made a different timeline only made it better...morally, at least.  
  
But this...this was selfish. It was only to help themselves; no one else. And Torankusu didn't like it.  
  
Never mind the fact that he dreaded going to school for the first time in his life. He had enough education from Buruma and Chichi to get by, sure, but actually being in a classroom? It was terrifying. Not many things scared Torankusu anymore, but this... It wasn't anything he'd experienced before.  
  
It would certainly help if he knew any fo his classmates. It hadn't even been a year since he left, so Gohan wasn't old enough, especially to be a senior...  
  
He sighed, pulling back from his thoughts and focusing on his mother. She and the new time machine werein the middle fo the lab; she was adding 'finishing touches', as she called them. Several minutes later she pulled back, and Torankusu was hit with a wave of nostalgia.  
  
It was the exact replica of the one he'd used to save Goku's life and assist the Z-Senshi in destroying the jinzouningen. Except that, instead of the word "Hope!!", Buruma had scribbled "scholasticus".  
  
Torankusu raised an eyebrow at her when she turned to glance at him, and gestured to the word on the time machine. Buruma smiled.  
  
"It's Latin. Scholar, learned on, schoolboy..."  
  
Torankusu smirked despite himself.  
  
"You could have picked a smaller word..."  
  
Buruma chuckled.  
  
"Maybe, but I figured this one fit the best."  
  
Torankusu nodded, a tiny half-smile alighting his own features, and glanced back at the time machine. So many memories...some better than others. He could still remember the feeling of Cell's chi beam ripping through his heart if he tried.  
  
But he also remembered returning to world that was in no danger from Gero's creations. That made everything worthwhile.  
  
He walked hesitantly toward it, a suitcase clutched in one hand, a container of capsules in the other. He glanced almost desperately at his mother, but any fool could see she was firmly resolved. He sighed defeatedly and continued to walk.  
  
He vaguely thought that the suitcase was heavier than it should be, even with his sword. He didn't have many clothes--they figured he'd buy more when he got there.  
  
It was when he was a few inches from the door that he caught his mother, out fo the corner of his eye, following him.  
  
Confusion flashed in his eyes, and then suspicion. He looked back at the time machine.  
  
Yes, it was identical to the other...on the outside.  
  
On the inside, it seated two.  
  
Juunanagou leaned against his chair, his legs out and his arms behind his head, hands locked together. His eyes were closed as he bit on a cigarette--a habit he had picked up a few years ago. In his eyes, it annoyed people, and it couldn't really hurt him, so what the hell. All the better if his cabin had that smokey smell everyone hated.  
  
He wouldn't admit it, but having one between his teeth seemed to help him think. He'd been doing that a lot lately...not much else to occupy his time at home, really. No electricity, and it didn't take forever to finish a stolen magazine.  
  
Truth be told, he had a bit of a problem. Kuririn's idea had...intrigued him. Posing as a harmless schoolboy...who knew whom he might end up leading on? And he really had been curious...not remembering anything of his human life, Juunana had no idea what school could be like.  
  
There was also the fact that Gohan would be there. A slight smirk formed on his face at the thought. He never killed the father...why not make it up for making his son's school life a living hell?  
  
It would be a blast.  
  
But he had the impression he'd need a parent, or something. Enrolling (if that was what it was called...) and all that. And he'd have to come up with a convincing story...and would probably need proof that he came from another school, along with who he was...  
  
Of course, he could always threaten them into letting him enter, but that would defeat the purpose of his game. Being discreet wasn't quite as fun, but it had been awhile since he'd done it.  
  
But it would take much more work, as always. And as of yet, he had very little idea of what he could do. It would be perfect if he could find his true records, but where could they possibly...  
  
"The lab..." he muttered. He stood up abruptly, the cigarette falling out of his mouth. He crushed it out with the foot without looking down, chuckling all the while.  
  
"I can't believe I never though about that... The old bastard must have had something. And chances are, it was locked away. Might not be destroyed.  
  
Laughing outright now, he raced out the door, taking flight.  
  
Gohan was several miles away from his house, sitting cross-legged in utter silence. His arms were folded loosely and he was leaning against a tree.  
  
He was trying with all his might to concentrate, but no matter what he tried, he just couldn't meditate. Thoughts of high school kept intruding. He was nervous as hell, and he knew it. He wouldn't deny it.  
  
The problem was, he didn't know what he could do about it. He could only dwell on everything bad that could happen. One of the main being, he would meet many new people at once. All his age...and, unlike him, normal. If they ever found out who he was, they'd think he was a freak. Some probably already would, though, most likely. He'd been home schooled for fourteen years! And the girls...he was never around girls his own age... And sports. He didn't know anything about sports.  
  
Sighing, Gohan opened his eyes. This just wasn't going to work. He'd just have to wait until he went...then, his fears would either subside or prove true...  
  
Bet it's the second...  
  
Gohan banged his head lightly against the tree.  
  
Shut up. Even though you're right.  
  
"Oh, boy..." me muttered, letting his head drop. Why couldn't highschool go and start already?  
  
Juunanagou had been rummaging through what was left of Gero's lab for about fifteen minutes, and as of yet didn't find anything.  
  
He growled with frustration. If baldy and that future boy had destroyed it...  
  
Scowling, he tossed aside some rubble. He was kneeling on one knee, rummaging** through the debris at the back of the mountain laboratory.  
  
"Aha!" he muttered, beaming. He had uncovered a square steel square, ten inches in length and width, with a small latch in the bottom-right corner.  
  
Expecting the lock, Juunana fished around in his the pocket of his tight blue jeans, and shortly recovered a small pin.  
  
Still grinning, he set to work on the lock. He'd had much practice in this area, but within several minutes he began to get frustrated. This was a very complicated lock, though not as high-tech as Gero usually preferred-- obviously, he thought no one would want to find his little stash, if that was what this little door really concealed.  
  
Juunana was debating with himself. Picking the lock would be much more sinister, and would appear more clever. But he had never been patient, not in the least.  
  
After a few more minutes of two of his most prominent attributes battling with each other, he just shrugged his shoulders and tore the lock off. School would be much more complicated than picking a lock, and he wanted to get to the real plan.  
  
It wasn't as if he was curious of his origins...of his other life, before Gero interfered. Well, maybe a little. Only because it would be amusing.  
  
He removed the medal square, tossing it aside uncerimoniously. The space under it wasn't all that deep, but, as he realised as he peered into it, deep enough to house a large stack of papers on top of which was an aged journal, another of pictures, and a tape recorder with tapes in a row of their own.  
  
Juunana's eyes widened slightly. The old man had been more throrough than he'd thought, obviously. He let his eyes sweep the contents once again, and he uncounciously took a closer look at the topmost picture.  
  
He felt his hands go limp.  
  
It was of a girl in her late teens. Her eyes were a bright sky-blue, her blond hair falling to her waist. She was smiling, her face flushed. On her head was a very wide blue, cone-shaped hat, with the words Happy 17th Birthday etched in orange. She was standing in front of a wall; he could make out a shaggy blue rug at her feet.  
  
He lifted the picture with a sluggishness, a hesitance not of him at all. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but went with the odd feelings.  
  
On the back were several words written in red ink.  
  
Crystal Anderson. One year until target is abducted.  
  
Placing it carefully to the side, Juunana lifted the other just as before. He was beginning to realize why he was acting so uncharacteristically.  
  
This one was of a boy. His dark hair was cropped very short, though you could tell it was straight, like the girl's. His eyes were a brilliant green, and his face had the same happy flush as Crystal's. On his light blue sweater, obviously very new, were the words Lucky Seventeen.  
  
Again, Juunana flipped the picture over in his hand. On the back, in the same handwriting and color, were a name and a sentence.  
  
Daren Anderson One year until target is abducted.  
  
For one instant, he felt a searing wave of melancholy and loathing, then it was gone. In fact, all hesitance and nostalgia was gone.  
  
No, not quite...not the nostalgia. He remembered...not this day, nothing concrete. But something. A feeling...he recognized these faces, as well he should, he figured.  
  
Shrugging, Juunana gathered the pictures in his arms, and took off for home. He'd examine everything there.  
  
He did, as soon as he got home. It seemed that Gero had started researching them when they were ten; at least, that was as far as the pictures went. They were all taken during a birthday. Some twisted irony, Juunana figured.  
  
One their seventeenth birthday, they looked almost exactly the same as they did now. Except the eyes...and not just the color. The ilife/I. The visible soul that one couldn't see through the things they had in their sockets now.  
  
Juunana had found everything he needed in that stack of papers. It was rather eerie, really. Gero was madder than he'd thought.  
  
Now he was skimming the journal. There was a lot of notes, on their behavior, their friends and family, and the like, but this didn't interest Juunana at present.  
  
That was, until he jerked it to the side, done with it, and saw a white edge stickign out of the back. Raising an eyebrow, he grabbed it with his thumb and index finger.  
  
It was a picture. A picture of a man and a woman. The woman had long blond that reached her waist, her eyes a green like his own used to be. Her face was the same as his sister's, so very similar to his own. His father's hair was dark black, rather messy. He wore stylish black glasses over eyes like Crystal's.  
  
On the back, words were written, in pencil this time.  
  
Amelia and Jared Anderson  
  
The rest was smudged, illegible.  
  
Torankusu braced himself. He had already warned his mother about the trip. Well, not warned, exactly...just told. It wasn't all that bad, just strange. Though that was to be expected.  
  
When he pressed the correct buttons and levers, it started.  
  
Automatically, his eyes closed, very softly, as it began.  
  
There was a low humming, something he could feel, yet not quite hear. It went through his entire body, and then seemed to numb his brain. All thoughts left it, and he was in a sort of meditative state, though one he had no control over.  
  
They were moving, very fast, though it wasn't the kind he was used to. Instead of going in any fo the four dimensions, the machine seemed to have one set aside, all its own.  
  
The speed, or whatever it could be called, increased dramatically after a few minutes, or maybe hours. The state he was in became more intense, and he saw, in his minds' eyes, a flash of white light, blinding him for what seemed an instant. It was like watching lightning through the windows of your house.  
  
In that moment, everything he had been, would be, and was, was laid before him. It was all around him, even as the time machine continued its progress. He could almost see his memories, almost see his future. All the pain, the happiness, everything he had felt and would feel, he knew right then.  
  
Then, very suddenly, it stopped. The time machine slowed. And, very gradually, his mind was his again. It was over.  
  
They were in the past. 


	3. Discoveries

A/N: Sorry for the extremley long wait. Some bastard hacker broke into my system and messed everything up--internet connection included. But, here it is, third chapter. Hope you enjoy. Oh, and there's a little switching of POVs near the end of the chapter--I hope it's not so confusing, but they were too short to add a double space. Also, I know Vejita may seem a little OOC, but it's how I'd expect him to react in the situation I put him in. He's still the arrogant ass well all know and love most of the time, don't worry. (Plus, I'm using 'Bejita' in this fic--sticking to Japanese names.) AND, this was going to be longer, but I'm going to continue in the next chapter, which hopefully won't take nearly as long to reach FF.Net. I think we've all waited long enough for this thing to be posted. -.-'  
  
Torankusu opened his eyes.  
  
He found he was standing outside the time machine. This had happened the other times, too. Getting out was automatic. The reflex, for lack of a better term, didn't even give him a chance to fully recover.  
  
Shaking his head to clear it further, he glanced to the other side of the machine. It seemed the same had happened to his mother. For a moment he was concerned, as she seemed disoriented, but then reminded himself that that was natural, and she could take care of herself as far as this was concerned.  
  
This didn't stop him from asking if she was okay, even if he knew the answer before it left her mouth.  
  
"Of course." He also knew, without looking, that she was smiling at him. He would have done the same, but at the moment, he was to busy being in awe.  
  
He'd been here before, of course, had spent a good while in the pat, but still it amazed him. There were trees all around him, birds singing freely. He could actually hear a pterodactyl's cry as it flew overhead.  
  
This was no barren landscape, and it wasn't for miles. There was no smell of charred wildlife in the air. There was no feeling of death and destruction pressing in from all sides.  
  
He felt a surge of slight, calm pride wash over him. He had helped the world stay this way...  
  
"My god..."  
  
His mother's voice was soft, barely a whisper. This time, Torankusu did look at her.  
  
Her eyes were wide, sparkling with tears yet unshed. There was a soft pain in them, the pain of beholding something you have lost forever. There was also the utter joy of it there.  
  
"This...Trunks..."  
  
Torankusu almost started. She hadn't called him that in years. The shorter version of his name, used for when he was a toddler.  
  
It was also what Gohan always called him...  
  
Mentally jerking himself from these thoughts, he let his worries for his mother come to the surface. He should have realized the past would have this sort of affect on...  
  
But then she straightened, and the strength she seemed to pull out of nowhere appeared, that defiant determination replacing the tears in her eyes. Her expression reflected that look. Torankusu smiled. Again, he should have known better.  
  
Then, quite suddenly, Buruma walked swiftly over to him and embraced him.  
  
"I'm so proud of you..." she whispered. He hugged her in return, his smile becoming thankful, peaceful. Glad.  
  
Then she stepped back, almost smirking now. Torankusu almost gulped. He knew that look...  
"Lets go find a place to put our capsule house. And then we can enroll you!"  
  
They ended up setting up their house in a kind of clearing in a forest, a real forest. The trees, all towering, with dense branches and an array of lustrous green leaves. The air was filled with the sound of chirping birds, scampering rabbits and other small creatures, and occasionally the distant roar of a dinosaur. At times a lithe, dangerous predator stalked near the edge of the grassless meadow. Torankusu knew that if he could see them, he would be captivated by their lethal beauty, if only because he'd never really seen one in his time. Most were dead, now. Caught in some attack or another...habitats destroyed...  
  
Torankusu pondered* all of this as he leaned against his and Buruma's new house. His arms were crossed against his chest as usual. His hair fell freely to his shoulders, blowing occasionally in the light, smoke-free breeze.  
  
His eyes were closed. There was no reason to stay alert, really. There wasn't in his own time either, now... Things were better, much better.  
  
But this...  
  
Compared to his world?  
  
This was heaven. He felt and knew that as he drifted off to sleep.  
  
Juunanagou braced himself as he stood in front of Capsule Corporation. This really wasn't the smartest idea he'd ever had... Yes, he knew Bejita was off training with Goku, he wouldn't come if he were there. To much of a hassle. Sure, he could certainly hold his own, but...even he had to submit to logic come time. And the basics were this: seven years ago, Cell had defeated him. Seven years ago, Bejita had defeated a Cell hyped up on Juunana's own power.  
  
And that woman... The Saiyajin's wife wasn't powerful in the least, physically. But she certainly had a mouth on her, almost as bad as Goku's woman's.  
  
...At least, that was what his sister had told him. Not like he was spying in his spare time because , say, there was nothing else to do and it was interesting. Nope, not him. Talk about pathetic, right?  
  
Oh, and the brat... His mirai version had irritated Juunanagou enough (and from what Juuhachi said, had become just as powerful as his father, making him despise him all the more) but that kid... He was ten times worse than his niece. Especially if his other half were with him. Both Super Saiyajin, both annoying as all hell.  
  
Of course, he was off playing with said half.  
  
Smirking now, all semblances of doubt gone in an instant, Juunana knocked on the door. It was an award tap; it wasn't as if he did it very often. Not that it mattered much what his knocking was like. As long as it got Buruma's attention.  
  
It obviously did. He heard soft, hurried footsteps headed toward the entrance to the domed building. Already, his face had resumed its expressionless mask.  
  
Although, when the door opened, his eyes widened just a bit. For the woman who stood there wasn't Vejita's mate. No, this woman, with her towering hairdo of blond curls and overly cheerful demeanor, was much more disturbing, in his less than humble opinion.  
  
Buruma's mother. He'd seen her a few times--not spying, of course, just in passing--and she even made Vejita shiver. Juunana cursed inwardly at his bad luck as she giggled.  
  
"My, aren't you a cute one!" The cyborg fought the urge to clench his fists, but his teeth were gritted behind his placid lips.  
  
"I'm looking for Buruma," he said, *usual monotone evident.*  
  
Mrs. Barifusu put her hand to her mouth as she giggled again.  
  
"My, you know she's a bit old for you, don't you? And she's quite taken--"  
  
"This is purely business." Nothing of his aggravating showed in his emotionless voice.  
  
"Oh, dear, then, please come in. I'll call Buruma for you, just sit tight,"  
  
As she spoke she turned and walked toward the living room, gesturing with her free hand for Juunana to follow. He did, rather reluctantly, and then stood against the wall nearest the door, arms crossed loosely.  
  
"I'll just be a minute!" he heard the woman say.  
  
Juunana sighed mentally. Even her voice annoyed him. So...beyond cheerful. He swore it wasn't normal.  
  
But then, neither was his. He always seemed to get a shiver out of strangers--like, for instance, bank staff. Sometimes he figured he didn't even need the handy little gun in his jean pocket.  
  
It was then that he saw Buruma, walking into the room alone, thank...Dende, wasn't it? His thoughts had wandered but his eyes had not.  
  
Her expression was one of pure business, but he could detect annoyance somewhere in there. Probably had been working on some invention or another and he'd interrupted her.  
  
So much the better. He got a great deal of pleasure out of irritating people (mainly his sister), especially when he made them lose their temper; he liked it almost as much as liked scaring them  
  
When Buruma saw him, however, all semblance of work fled from her features, her eyes. All that shown was...hey, fear.  
  
Almost made him giddy.  
  
But then that was replaced, to, with anger. Disappointed him a bit, but this was almost as good, really.  
  
Almost.  
  
"Hey, Buruma. Nice to see you again." He paused, feigning thoughtfulness. "Well, no, actually. Always thought you were annoying." She glowered at him and he rejoiced. Her hands, fists, were clenched tightly* at her sides, fuchsia-painted nails biting into to soft flesh, showing her anger further.  
  
"What do you want?" she snapped. Her arms, hands still balled into fists, left their place by her sides and folded themselves across her chest. She looked every bit the authoritive, strong-willed president of Capulse Corporations. Juunana might have been intimidated if he were someone else.  
  
He knew for a fact that Juuhachi's little lapdog would be wetting his pants right about now.  
  
"I was hoping you could help me," he answered smoothly. His emotionless voice didn't at all betray the fact that he really wished he wasn't...that he didn't need her help, or anyone's for that matter.  
  
But, unfortunately, in this case he did.  
  
Buruma's eyebrows rose, almost disappearing underneath the thick bangs of her newly short pale blue hair. Then she laughed, her arms again changing position, hands moving to rest on her hips, which were covered with a lavender skirt that reached to a little below her knees. It of course matched her nails perfectly, not to mention her darker high-heels and lighter blouse. Her earrings were an even brighter fuchsia than her nails.  
  
"Help you?" she said after a moment. "You tried to kill my oldest best friend. Hell, you tried to kill all of my best friends, plus my husband! And, you let Cell absorb you and become even more powerful. Not to mention that fact that that future you made my future son's life a living hell and really did kill everyone, and millions of other people. Why on Earth would I want to help you?"  
  
Juunana said nothing, as he knew there was more to come. Nothing she said induced the slightest bit of guilt. Really, he didn't even think he was capable of that emotion. Besides, he had expected something like this at first. Maybe for the entire time. Nothing had changed on his expression during her barrage of accusations, and for once it reflected what he felt.  
  
Nothing.  
  
"Besides," she continued, as he suspected she would, "you're a horrible uncle."  
  
At this, Juunana merely raised an eyebrow, saying not a word. That wasn't something he'd expected, but of course it didn't bother him in the slightest.  
  
No guilt there at all. Despite how he felt about his sister and the fact that he knew it saddened her. Ashe thought earlier, he never felt guilt.  
  
Buruma made an exasperated noise at the back of her throat, but kept her mouth closed.  
  
"You're done?"  
  
Buruma scowled at him, which took to be a "yes".  
  
He moved from the wall, stepping closer to the woman. Nothing in her countenance changed.  
  
Probably knew he figured Vejita would kill him in the most painful way possible if he murdered the Saiyajin's mate.  
  
Directly in front of her, facing her down coolly, he said, "I want to attend high school--and I need you help."  
  
Buruma's eyes widened almost comically before she broke out into another fit of laughter. Juunana waited impatiently for it to subside.  
  
It finally did ending when Buruma chuckled out, "You? In school? ...Why?"  
  
"Not your concern. You only have to create some records for me."  
  
Again her eyebrows rose.  
  
"And what WHAT makes you think I'll do that?"  
  
Juunana smirked, moving foreword until his face was only several inches from hers.  
  
"Because if I can't do this, I'll be pissed off. When I'm pissed off, I destroy things." His smirk deepened, becoming more malevolent.  
  
"Now what should I blow up...another office building? Museum, maybe?"  
  
Doubt flickered in her eternally defiant eyes.  
  
He put a smooth, pale finger on his chin, again pretending to be contemplating.  
  
"Hmm...maybe a school?"  
  
He knew he had her by the look in her eyes. There was no way innocent people--especially children--were going to die because of her, because she turned him down. She wouldn't be able to reach any of the Z-Senshi before the deed was done, and he figured she didn't want Juuhachi furious with her.  
  
"Fine," she gritted, "but if you hurt me or anyone around me, I'm rebuilding Gero's deactivator."  
  
Buruma smiled. It was a soft, grateful one as she watched her son from the doorway, eyes closed gently in sleep that seemed, for once, to be peaceful. Must be the atmosphere, she figured. He'd hardly stirred since he'd settled into unconsciousness, a few minutes after they arrived. It had been a few hours, according to her watch.  
  
It also said, twelve thirty. Meaning lunchtime. Meaning, unfortunately, that she'd have to wake her son up. It wasn't something she really wanted to do, but boys needed their food--especially half-Saiyajin boys. She'd always made sure to give him large meals three times a day, always was very punctual, because she figured he needed at least that comfort. Most children in their world didn't have that.  
  
Most of them had nothing. Sure, in the Underground, she, Chichi, and their sons---until Gohan was killed, then it was just the three of them-- cared for the ones they could save. Above all else, they made sure they were safe. But they also made the tunnels homey. There were tables, couches, fans, even a television, in each division. Of course, they'd all lost people, lost their homes...the grief was palpable and devastating. There was no way Buruma and her family could hope to cure them...but they could help, a little. Do more then keep them alive... They didn't want to just give them a shelter, they wanted to give them a home, and they did.  
  
And here she was, reminiscing when she should be--  
  
"Hey mom."  
  
Buruma blinked, and looked down to her son. He was still in the same position on the ground, but his head was cocked toward her, and there was a small, amused smile on his face.  
  
"...You're awake." Realizing she had just stated the obvious, she smiled sheepishly.  
  
"Duh."  
  
Torankusu chuckled, then got to his feet.  
  
"Of course," he answered, smile still in place. "It's lunch time."  
  
This time is was Buruma who laughed.  
  
"Oh, yes, I forgot all Saiyajin have an inward food-timer. You all know exactly when meals are."  
  
With that she turned, suppressing her own chuckle, and walked into the house, son in tow.  
  
As they sat across from the dinner table, she addressed what she knew she had to. School was beginning tomorrow. She really wished they had gone sooner. She had thought of it a short while after he had killed Cell, but it had taken a good while to both finish the time machine and tell Torankusu what she planned to do.  
  
Ah, well. They'd have to make due. They always had before.  
  
"I have papers here, Torankusu," she began. Her son sighed--she knew he didn't like the idea. She also knew he wouldn't protest it anymore.  
  
She continued.  
  
"They confirm you've been home schooled all this time...give proof you are who you say you are...that I'm in a position to enroll you...everything."  
  
"So we have nothing to worry about."  
  
Buruma nodded.  
  
"Right. ...We just have to..."  
  
"I'm listening." Each time he talked, he paused in the relentless eating that reminded her so much of the Sons, Gohan in particular...he had, after all, taught Torankusu to eat that way.  
  
"Well, no one can know there's to Buruma Barifusus in this world...so it would be better if the other Buruma enrolled you."  
  
Torankusu cocked an eyebrow.  
  
"She already has a Torankusu--a baby one. No one is going to believe he grew up this fast." He didn't dare voice the thought that Buruma of this timeline might looked to young to be his real mother.  
  
"I know that, and I've taken it into account. I altered your papers a bit, Torankusu." She paused, noting the worrying curiosity in her son's eyes.  
  
"You won't BE Torankusu Barifusu, you'll be his older brother, Bejita junior."  
  
It didn't take long to get to the present Buruma's house--after Torankusu recovered from her news, anyway. They both knew the way, after all.  
  
It took only a few hours, Buruma being a computer genius and all--why else would he have chosen such an irritating woman? Of course, there was only one other he knew. And that one almost made him shudder. Hell, he figured she would have made Cell cower.  
  
Wife of Goku, mother of Gohan and Son's mini-me, the scariest human woman ever to live.  
  
Son Chichi.  
  
And she had to pretend to be his mother, for there was no way in hell he would go to the trouble of seeking out his real one.  
  
It made sense. Buruma had made the adoption papers for him confirming she was his guardian. Only, of course, because between another fit of laughter she assured him Chichi would never do it. She wouldn't even do it for someone she didn't despise with a passion, and, as she so gracefully put it, someone who's neck she wanted to ring with a diamond-back cobra. After all, she went on, he tried to kill her husband, helped in making her 'baby' train for three years, caused her worry like she'd never known before, which was saying something, and killed Gohan in the future timeline.  
  
No, he was not in her favorite people's list. But no matter her threats or her legendary mouth, he was ten times stronger than she was. He could make her do anything he wanted.  
  
Besides, he had Juuhachigou as a twin sister. Surely he could handle Son Chichi...  
  
"YOU!!"  
  
Juunana was almost knocked of his feet. As soon as Chichi had opened the door her eyes narrowed and her mouth became a thin line. That is, until she opened it and her mouth took up half her face, which seemed to have grown half the size of her body as she bore down on him.  
  
"WHAT are you doing here?!"  
  
"I need help. And if you start laughing, I rip out your heart and mount it on my wall."  
  
That actually shut her up. Made her a few shades paler, too, though her livid expression had only gotten more intense, and when she spoke, it was in a furious growl.  
  
"What do you--" And then a thought seemed to occur to her.  
  
"My son--"  
  
"GOHAN has taken your smaller brat and Bejita's fishing," he said coolly. "I could easily kill you before he gets back."  
  
Chichi gulped, nervously he could tell, though she was trying and failing to hide the emotion. Then her fury was back in place in her expression and countenance.  
  
"You've got five seconds, Juunanagou. Any more and I will SLAM this door in your face, GOT IT?" Juunana didn't know if she was bluffing or not, but decided not to press his luck.  
  
"I'm going to be starting high school. I need you to play my aunt. I'll give you the information you'll need tomorrow."  
  
Chichi could do nothing but gape at him. He smirked.  
  
"Remember," he said smoothly, "if you don't agree to this, I'll kill you. Gohan will be to late. I don't believe he has that uncanny ability to show up in just the nick of time his father does...excuse me, 'dead father', and 'did'."  
  
The woman froze. Grief emanated off her like a heat wave. It was so intense even Juunana noticed. For one instant, Chichi let the tired and sad woman she was show through.  
  
He knew he had her, even when her mask was back up. She nodded, spat some vehement obscenities at him, and then slammed the door. Satisfied, he levitated a few feet, turned, and flew toward his cabin.  
  
Chichi leaned against the door, her hands trembling. She tried to tell herself it was from the fury she felt for the bastard jinzouningen who had the nerve to ask her help, the gull to bring up her...dead...  
  
Goku...  
  
She closed her eyes, and let herself go limp, so she was fully depending on the door for her to stay risen from the ground. Then she let the tears fall. Normally, she waited. Waited until she was alone, in bed. An empty bed. No one was there to comfort her because he couldn't. Because he was the one she was grieving for.  
  
Chichi hated to cry, but at the same time it felt good. It had been seven years, but still, every day, she carried a baggage of crushing despair. The man she loved was gone and he wasn't coming back this time. You'd think...she was Son Chichi after all...you'd think she'd get over it. But it was impossible. Not when it was Goku, the man she'd known since she was only a child. The naive, amusing boy who's she developed a crush within ten second of their first meeting. Even then he was being the hero. He wasn't supposed to die, ever. Not...not permanently. But he had, and how could she deal with that? Especially when Gohan and Goten had so much of him inside of them?  
  
Her whole body was shaking now with sobs, and she let herself slide to the unbelievably clean wooden floor. That was what she did, now. Cleaned and cooked all the time, that or train Goten, or teach Gohan, so she wouldn't think of Him. Night was the time for remembering all they'd been through together.  
  
Yes, it is.  
  
The sobs stopped abruptly and Chichi's mouth became a thin, determined line. She stood. The only sign of her earlier devastation was the many tear tracks on her face. She'd go wash it. Then she'd go on with her day. Son Chichi wasn't some weakling who couldn't deal with grief, not some girl who broke down every time Goku was mentioned. And that was true. If it was Gohan or Buruma...she'd smile sadly, reminisce. But Juunana was so cold and uncaring. Having Goku's death thrust on her like that, so suddenly and cruelly, was more than she could bare right now. Even after so long.  
  
Chichi scowled menacingly. She'd give the bastard hell for this. Lets see what good old Auntie Chichi could cook up...  
  
Juunanagou sat against the door of his cabin, staring at the papers, pictures, and tapes splayed out none to neatly in front of him.  
  
He picked up a tape. It was labeled Daryn and Crystal, Eighteenth Birthday. Yes, that would give him something of an idea on the way he should act in school.  
  
"Aw, C'mon, Daryn!"  
  
Juunana blinked. That was Juuhachi's voice, obviously, but--  
  
"Crystal...no. Absolutely not!"  
  
His hand, after having clicked the thing on and pressed the play button, that was returning to its place at his chest to cross with the other one, froze. That...that was him. His timbre, at least. But...there was...emotion...  
  
His eyes, wide, locked on the tape recorder. He couldn't move. No...part of him couldn't move. Something inside him...the person who had spoken in that recording. The young man who could actually let his feelings surface to his voice. The boy who could actually truly -feel-. The human...  
  
"Daryyn.... Please??"  
  
"Nu-uh. That hat is embarrassing. Besides, I already have one."  
  
"That old thing's not even half a hat, you dolt!"  
  
Daryn had playfully punched her on the arm after that. He...he knew...  
  
"Hey, sis, watch it. This 'old thing', as you call it, happens to be near and dear to my heart."  
  
"If you had a heart you'd do this for me! We need promotion, here!"  
  
"Promotion..." Juunana muttered. "For..."  
  
He blinked. Then he lived again.  
  
Crystal had her hands on her hips and she was pouting. He wished she wouldn't do that. It always made his resolve waver. Why did she have to know him so well?  
  
"Daaryynn..."  
  
"Oh, not the prolonged whining," he groaned, bringing a hand to his face. It hid his smirk.  
  
"Ha ha, bro," his twin said dryly, and he saw her roll her eyes through the gaps between his fingers. Then her expression became a mirror of his own.  
  
Uh-oh. That was never good. What did she gave up her...  
  
"Violet just joined."  
  
Daren's hand fell back to his side abruptly and he gaped stupidly at his sister for a few minutes.  
  
"Violet?" he said weakly. Vi...his ex. He'd been trying to get her back for months now. Just because he looked at a guy, really...simply because he found men attractive too didn't mean...  
  
"Getting broody all ready, Dar," Crystal said sympathetically, shaking her head. "You really are pathetic when it comes to old Vi. But if you help us, maybe--"  
  
Daryn help up his hands, admitting defeat.  
  
"Okay, okay, you know you win, no need to rub it in..." He sighed as she smirked again, one arms extending him, offending hat clutched loosely in her hand. Frowning, he took it from her and examined it once again. As he expected, it seemed no more appealing than it had last time. A vibrant aqua blue with bubbles, etched in white, floating throughout, it had his sisters' activist groups' logo, center on front, beginning at ending at matching points. Big, darkest fuchsia bubble letters outlined in bright blue announced the name: Anti-Whalers. Little red squiggles appeared throughout, flowing in and out behind the text.  
  
He hated it. Nonetheless, he slid off his beloved pale teal cap and slipped it into place, stuffing his own hat into the pocket of his jeans.  
  
"Happy?"  
  
Crystal grinned from ear to ear.  
  
"Hell yeah!" she whooped. He knew she was saying "go me, go me" inside and mentally doing the happy dance. She'd beaten him again, this time because of Vi. Tch. If she could look at other guys, why couldn't he?  
  
Juunana snapped out of the reverie when he snapped off the tape. His wide-eyed, semi slack face regained its normal aloof mask as his composure restored itself. To look at him, you wouldn't know the turmoil his soul had just endured. Even to see past this mask, you'd only discover a slimmer of pain, as he hid it so well even from himself. He didn't care about his past.  
  
Not at all.  
  
Silently, he set aside the cassette player and ruffled through some papers.  
  
Torankusu had made sure to fly above the clouds so know one would see them. Now he found himself wishing it had been a little trickier. He really didn't want to get here so soon. If Bejita were there...he doubted it, but still. If he was, Torankusu wasn't sure how her mother would handle it. He'd seen him when he came last time, but Buruma...  
  
But she was already ringing the doorbell. No inhibitions for her, not when she wanted to do something. There never had been, as far as he knew.  
  
Her hand was clutching his. He squeezed as much as he dared--only slightly. She needed comfort, even if she wouldn't admit it in words.  
  
She didn't need a broken hand.  
  
"Bejita, get the door, will you?!"  
  
Buruma's voice was muffled, but loud enough so that Torankusu, with his enhanced hearing, could hear.  
  
"Why should I?!"  
  
He tensed. Bejita's voice...his fathers voice...  
  
He was there...  
  
"I'm busy!! Doing what you wanted me to do, remember?!"  
  
"FINE!"  
  
His mother did hear that. A shuddering breath passed her lips. She swallowed tightly.  
  
The door opened, and there he stood.  
  
He was wearing the blue spandex pants the both remembered, but also a matching tee and sneakers. His scowls was firmly in place, yet...something about it was different. It wasn't the scowl of an evil warrior prince, it was the scowl of an annoyed...husband.  
  
"...Hi, Bejita."  
  
Bejita's eyes narrowed slightly more than they were as he studied his future son. Only a slither of his shock--glad shock, maybe?--shown in his eyes, but it was more emotion that Torankusu had ever seen there.  
  
"Torankusu." His scowl shifted into a smirk...a soft smirk, almost a smile...no one else, he figured, would take it that way. It was like the one he'd had when Torankusu had left, those many months ago, to go back to the future.  
  
"Father." His tone was more distracted than it would have been normally, because he could feel his mother shuddering, through the hand locked in his.  
  
"B..Bejita..."  
  
His father's gaze shifted, slowly, to his mother. And then, the smirk became a strait line, a sad one, and his eyes softened.  
  
"Buruma."  
  
Buruma almost pulled a Chichi and fainted right there. She had never heard such gentleness in Bejita's voice, not since that one time... Her eyes were watering now, something she had sworn to herself they wouldn't do. She'd never shown any sort of weakness in front of this man, never...  
  
For his part, Bejita was almost surprised at himself. This wasn't the he acted around his Buruma...not in daylight, not in public. And yet, this one...it may have seemed he hadn't cared when Torankusu had relayed the events of his life over seven years ago, and back then, he probably didn't. But even if he never said it in any place other than their bedroom--well, at times in their bedroom--he loved Buruma. And he knew, no matter how much they bickered, how much their equally strong wills clashed, she loved him, too.  
  
Buruma had a big heart, he knew that. And to lose him, and Kakarotto...and all the rest, one by one, it must have crushed her. And he couldn't stand it, and he couldn't be anything else but gentle with her, not now.  
  
"Come in."  
  
He was glad that none of that showed in his voice this time. Wouldn't want to become to soft, not like...  
  
Fuck, can't even think his name. Bastard.  
  
"Woman! We have company!"  
  
There was a pause.  
  
"Fine! I'm just getting washed up. Be CIVIL, Bejita!"  
  
Bejita just rolled his eyes.  
  
"...C-Cleaned up?"  
  
Buruma hated the stutter in the voice almost as much as she hated the fact that she was clutching her son's hand so tightly she was sure it would break if he were human. Or the fact that she was just short of trembling violently, or else bursting hysterically into tears, or maybe running into Bejita's arms and sobbing like a child.  
  
This wasn't her, it just wasn't. None of these embarrassing impulses represented Buruma Barifusu at all and she knew it. And yet... Here was the man she had, regardless of all his many flaws...loved. Alive, after almost two decades. And he had been...different, in a way she know only she, and maybe Torankusu or...or Goku, would have picked up.  
  
Meanwhile, while all these thoughts and emotions churned inside her like clothes in an old washing machine, Bejita snorted.  
  
"One of her half-assed inventions, as usual. Damn thing blew up in her face." Despite the annoyed, almost callous words, Buruma could detect a hint of fondness in his voice. She smiled a half smile much like her son's, and then glanced at said young man to see exactly how he himself was coping.  
  
Unsurprisingly, he looked unfazed in everything but those eyes, always a dark blue storm of emotion. She could see both grief and glee there, and also worry, for her, which she normally rolled her own eyes at...but this time, she saw the point.  
  
In his expression was only a sad smile, almost invisible.  
  
"WOMAN! HURRY UP!"  
  
Buruma flinched, then said hotly, "You don't have to yell, you know! I don't need my ears damaged!"  
  
She stopped abruptly, blinking. Bejita was staring at her, he seemed shocked, but she could see a smile in his eyes...yes, there it was... But she could barely think. She had just lapsed into a habit of a lifetime ago...one that drove everyone both her and her mate knew up the wall, including themselves...and had loved it.  
  
Her gaze moved slowly to Torankusu. To her surprise, he was grinning, even if, as always, there was a sadness there.  
  
She was sure something would have been said, by one of them, but just then Buruma, the present one, the one who belonged here, appeared at the top of the stairs.  
  
"Alright, loudmouth, who do we--my god, TRUNKS!"  
  
Mirai Buruma gave a sideways glance at her son.  
  
"Trunks?" she mouthed. Torankusu just shrugged.  
  
Meanwhile, the present Buruma was running down the stairs. Soon, she had all but leaped on him, hugging him fiercely.  
  
"Oh, Trunkschan! How have you been?"  
  
"I...uh...er..." Torankusu stuttered, a blush spreading from the middle of his nose in both directions across his cheeks. "Fine, Buruma...mom..."  
  
After a few moments more, she released him, beaming.  
  
"He's only been gone for a few months," Mirai Buruma said, smiling faintly. She was calm again, finally. This loud, slightly amusing disruption was what she needed.  
  
She expected the wide-eyed glance she got from her counterpart, the mouth that opened and then closed soundlessly, but not the words that came from it after her gaping was finished.  
  
"But...no...it's been seven years since Torankusu has been here!" 


	4. Planning

A/N: I'm very sorry for the long wait...again. Turns out I have yet another problem with my internet connection, and as of now I have no idea when it'll be cleared up. I'll post this chapter as soon as I can. Thanks for all your reviews, old and new. They're very much appreciated. Talk about a way to get over writer's block (or off your lasy ass). *grin* This would be longer, but I wanted to hurry up and get the next chapter out. -.-; Thank you for your patience.  
  
Torankusu's eyes widened almost comically, especially considering it was him. Shock was emenating from him like chi when he was fighting; his eyes acted like the focus point. It was shown clearly there. His posture spoke volumes, also, as it normally did. He arms and hands were slackened and he paid no attention to alertness, as he did most fo the time, whether it was nessecary or not. He didn't even attempt to brush the hair that had yet again fallen in front of his eyes.  
  
Buruma, for her part, only frowned thoughtfully. She hadn't been here before; for Trunks it would be amazing to see Gohan as an eighteen year old, when only a few months ago he was merely at the age of eleven. And also...his present self must be eight, or near it. What was he like?  
  
And his father...that explained why he was capable of showing such compassion. Seven years of living with his mother...and him. The other Torankusu.  
  
His expression had lapsed back into his usual expression, one of tenderness and seriousness at the same time. Of content and deep sadness.  
  
Mainly, he no longer looked like...an idiot. Thank Kami. Or...Dende, he supposed. That was odd sounding at best, but there you had it.  
  
Finally turning his attention back to the people in the room--his family--he said quietly, "That...could be a problem."  
  
Both the Burumas rolled their eyes, though the "Duh, Torankusu," was slightly differed as the present Buruma called him Trunks. Still, it was very wierd.  
  
Of course, both Burumas looked at eachother and bursted out laughing.  
  
Torankusu was going to do his own eye-roll at this, though an amused one, but he caught his father doign the same thing and stopped. Things didn't need to get that eerie.  
  
When his mothers calmed down, Present Buruma said, "We might've gotten away with it if our Trunks was still a baby, but as I said, it's been seven years..."  
  
Torankusu's Buruma nodded.  
  
"We were orriginally going to make Torankusu--mine--yours' brother, but after seven years people would notice--"  
  
Bejita again rolled his eyes.  
  
"They would noticed anyone, Buruma. Torankusu should have been here for eighteen years--that's ten more than our son here anyway."  
  
Buruma looked sheepish as she turned to look at Bejita; or rather, past him. She couldn't deal with looking into his eyes again...not yet. Now was not the time for another near breakdown. Well, in her opinion no time was, but this... She figured this was a special case.  
  
"Good point," Thank Kami, I didn't stutter...  
  
Mirai Buruma shrugged a bit, hoping she looked nonchalant.  
  
"It could be possible you sent him away..."  
  
The younger Buruma shook her head slowly, frowning.  
  
"Nope. They've gone through my family's birth records with a fine- tooth comb, I don't think fake ones would convince them--that's what ya've got, isn't it?" she asked, grinning.  
  
Mirai smiled slightly in return, nodding.  
  
"Among other things...I guess that work was for nothing--"  
  
"Maybe not..." Torankusu said slowly, looking intensley thoughtful. Of course, mostly everything about him was intense, anyway.  
  
Both of his mothers looked to him, as did Bejita.  
  
"What do you mean, Trunks?" The younger of the two women asked.  
  
Eyebrows knit closely, he answered, "Maybe...I could be Bejita's son, but not---"  
  
"What about your mother, boy?" Bejita asked, frowning. "How exactly will you explain my 'other son's' mother looking like my wife's twin?"  
  
"We can fix that," Buruma jumped in. "All of the handlers of our records, they know Bejita's a Saiyajin--that is, that he's from a long way away from here. They don't know anything about his family..." She was getting more and more excited. "We can dye your hair black, get you some contacts..."  
  
Torankusu's Buruma raised her eyebrows sceptically, but she was grinning. Bejita, however, was not satisfied. One has to wonder if he ever is.  
  
"And I suppose you've both figured out how to--" He paused. Truth be told, even though he thought this was an *incredibly* stupid idea, he couldn't really think of anything specific to point out. So he simply stated what was on his mind.  
  
"This is fucking stupid." His mate just rolled her eyes.  
  
"Yes, we know what you think. Concidering you think that about pretty much everything. Can you let us scheme now?"  
  
.They've been together for a long time, Torankusu realised. Time his mother never got to have. He felt a pang of saddness, striking him deep in his chest like the sharp, cold metal of his own blade. He knew his mother caught his expression--it seemed she always did, even when she wasn't looking--because she touched his hand softly with her own.  
  
"No," Bejita said firmly. "I will not let you make our future son along with my future mate make fulls of themselves." He was in his regular stuborn stance; arms crossed, face set in a determined scowl, body tensed. That was his prebattle position, too, though their was no air of threat about him. Not real threat, anyway.  
  
Something was differant. When Torankusu had last been here, his father wouldn't have cared either way. He cared, and was no longer so caught up in his self-image to show it. He truly had grown, mentally and emotionally.  
  
If not physically.  
  
Present Buruma sighed in frustration, closing her eyes tightly for an instant. When they opened again, the sparkled with annoyance and challenge.  
  
"Well, what would your ideas be, then, Oh Brilliant One?" The abundance of sarcasm was welcome to Torankusu's ears. Not greif or painfalu nostalgia or worry. His mother was bantering with her mate and loving it.  
  
It was the way things should have been.  
  
Bejita obviously came up with nothing in the four seconds Buruma allowed before she smirked triumphantly. Noticing his time was up, her snorted haughtily.  
  
"At least any plan of mine wouldn't requite them to wear disguises twenty-four hours a day."  
  
Torankusu's Buruma opened her mouth hesitantly, as if not wanting to interupt the argument. When she spoke, her voice was full of remembrance and longing, along with determination.  
  
"It won't be a problem."  
  
The opponents both turned to lookat her, their eyes widening. It seemed they forgot anyone was their in their fight. To them, it was like they were the only ones on the planet. Sort of like what other couples experienced in a romantic embrace.  
  
The future Buruma's face was stern, determined. Unwavering. It was plain in the set of her jaw, the subtle flash in her bright eyes. Her son knew that when she got that expression, there was no use arguing with her. You would get more headway with one fo her capsules.  
  
Torankusu nodded his own silent agreement. He knew how much this meant to his mother, and so it meant as much to him also. And besides, even if he didn't feel that way... He knew the face. You don't argue with her when she gets that face.  
  
Unless you were Bejita, but he never seemed to have much luck, so...  
  
"It's worth it."  
  
Torankusu didn't even recall thinking the words, they just left his mouth. But he realised he meant them, so he made no attempt to take them back. Wasn't this what he'd wanted for so long anyway? A normal life... Almost, at least. With his mother...and Gohan. And everyone else. How many times had he dreamed of going to a real school, having real friends?  
  
Yes. It was worth it.  
  
"Yeah, so, living in deceit ever single second is worth it too, huh?"  
  
Something cold and burning shot right through Torankusu's heart at the sound of that dry, amused voice. He didn't note the differances there, behind the sarcastic words; he heard only her.  
  
His chi already surrounding him, he turned his tense, ready body to face it. His mother trembled beside him, and he side-stepped, placing himself in front of her. All he could utter was a low, loatheful word.  
  
"Jinzouningen." 


	5. Confrontations

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters herein, nor the settings in which they are placed. Both belong to their creator, Akira Toriyama, and I apologize to him for not giving him due credit sooner. I also take full responsibility for any trauma they will have suffered come the end of this story. I'll even pay for their therapy.

Note: First, I'd like to give my utmost thanks to all reviewers for both their comments and their patience, but my highest level of gratitude goes to Random Minion for the absolute best review I've ever recieved. I was floating, complete with a large, stupid grin on my face. Thank you for the note on POV changes-originally I'd marked them with double spacing, but that doesn't seem to turn up on FFN. I'll simply have to be clearer with my transitions, then (I always thought POV breaks were rather tacky, personally). I'll also be sure to read over my work more carefully. (Still no luck with a beta, you see.) As for the names I choose to use, it's the ones I use in my head, and frankly, I like them better. Again, thank you-and I apologize to all of you for this obscenely long AN. (Also, Akasha-yes and no.) Remember, be sure to yell at me if I procrastinate or mess up.

"They are not!"

"Stop fooling yourself, those are the fakest I've ever seen-and I've seen a i lot /i .

On the couch, behind the two and as far to the left as was possible, Kuririn sat with his head in his hands, groaning. Roshi and Oolong were sitting on the floor inches from the screen, refusing to take their eyes off it even as they argued.

i You'd think I'd have gotten used to this by now... /i he thought sullenly. It had been six years since he and Juu had moved in, a year since Marron had been born.

The thought of his little girl brought a smile to his face. His little chestnut.

He sometimes thought it should surprise him that he'd had a part in making this adorable little human being, but really, it didn't. She had his high forehead, his eyes, even his lack of a nose.

Her hair, though, with the colour and softness of sunlight, that came from her mother.

Kuririn sighed, the sound muffled by his hand just as his smile had been. Normally, the thought of his wife would send his spirits soaring, would feel his heart with renewed awe at the fact that she had chosen i him /i , out of all people to be with, to love, when no other woman but one had ever given him a second thought.

But she was still mad at him for his blurted comment to Juunanagou. At first he'd wondered what the real harm was-and then she'd told him, witheringly, and he'd felt like a complete dunce.

"What if he harms i or kills /i the other students, huh? Or the staff? It's not like he has morals! As soon as he gets bored he'll probably blow the whole place up! And do you really think he'll keep his identity secret for long? He's not patient enough for that, he'll open his big mouth and destroy any kind of peace we have i forever /i , including Marron's, and it will be i all your fault /i ! My GOD, Kuririn, how can you be so fucking stupid?"

Kuririn flinched at the memory. After that she'd stormed out, slamming the door behind her-luckily it hadn't broken off, but there were a few cracks evident. She hadn't been back since.

He supposed he deserved this, but it hurt so much. Every single time they fought, he got a sinking feeling in his stomach, like the life of his dreams was going to slip away from him, and he would be the one to blame. Every time she got that look in her eyes, every time she got angry at him...it scared him more than any enemy ever had. He would rather lose his life than lose his family.

What if, when she came back, she decided to end it all? What if she was that furious? No, no, she just wanted to blow off steam, that's what she always did, and then she would come back, and they would talk about it if they had to, and everything would be okay again...

But what if this time is different, his insecurity said. What if this time...

He felt a soft tug on his pants and lowered his hands a bit, peering to his right. Then, despite himself, he couldn't help but grin.

There stood Marron, one hand cluctching his leg and the other raised to her mouth so she could suck her thumn. Her head was cocked to the side, eyes still dulled by recent sleep.

"Marron!" he said happily. "What are you doing up, I thought you were sleeping!"

"Not tired 'nymore," she said around her thumb, though her expression belied her words. An instant later she took it from her mouth and raised her chubby little arms, the universal signal for 'pick me up'. Playing dumb, Kuririn raised an eyerbow. Marron pouted,

"Hold me, daddy!" she said impatiently. Said daddy chuckled.

"Ah, so that's what you want!"

He got ready to do exactly that, but the comments that had mercifully faded while he retreated into his thoughts had come back full force.

"Now i that's /i something I would pay for!"

"Those are i definately /i not fake."

"GAH!" Kuririn said, his face going completely red before a second could pass-surely a world record. He hurriedly stood and scooped Marron up in his arms, sheilding her view with his upper body, and near ran upstairs to her room.

"Whatsa matter, Daddy?" Marron asked as he threw open her door.

"Er, um, well... You see, Marron, um..." Kuririn remained just as artciulate as he crossed the room to her crib.

"No' tired..." she said petulantly, but as soon as her head hit the pillow her eyes began to close. Her arms automatically wrapped around the teddy bear at her side.

His heart slowly stopped pounding as he realised that Marron was safe from the influence of the porn conneusiers downstairs, and that he wouldn't have to provide an explanation for his minimarathon run.

He stood there for a moment looking down at her, at the peaceful expression on her chubby face, the bright hair partly sheilding her closed eyes, and he knew that everything would be okay.

Actually seeing his wif, however, probably wouldn't have comforted him much. Juuhachi was leaning against a tree miles away from her island home, arms crossed above her head, staring up at nothing.

She was surrounded by the same, the only sound being the wind, occasional, sounds of wildlife, and her own muttered "Why did I marry and idiot?", the same thought that had been going through her head for hours as she flew around aimlessly, furiously.

The answer, which had come just as frequently, was immediate: because he was sweet, and brave, and adorable, and he loved her, despite everything. Because he adored their daughter and would give everything for her just as she would. Because he didn't i care /i that she wasn't human anymore.

He just didn't think before he spoke sometimes, and normally, it just added to what she loved about him, that excuberance that usually left people before they reached adulthood.

But this time it had caused far to much trouble.

Sighing and briefly closing her eyes, Juuhachi stood up straight, letting her arms fall to her sides as she did so. This wasn't why she'd left-well, it i was /i partially to keep from strangling the man she loved, but she'd already vented her anger by destroying half a forrest, and was now left with only annoyance and worry.

It was in her twin's nature to cause trouble. He loved any sort of havoc, especially if he was the source-it was what had caused them to be shut down so many times before he'd finally decided to kill Gero. Well, it was also in part her own fault-she rarely did anything to stop him, as his antics once amused her greatly.

Even when it cost the life of an innocent man, or woman, or child. She hadn't cared. She hadn't started caring until she met Kuririn. He gave her back true humanity, the kind you could have even if your body was made of steel.

Now, she would protect people as surely as if they were her family, even if she couldn't tell anyone that she actually gave a damn, because Kuririn was the only person she allowed to see that part of her. No one else deserved that intimacy.

"And here I am, staying put." Her words were full of contempt for herself, staying here thinking about nothing while precious time went by.

The other, far more important reason she'd left was to warn people. Chichi was the one who should be told, as her own son would be sharing a building with her brother, but the two had never gotten along-perhaps because of the assasination attempt on her mate. And that pear necklace she stole.

Juuhachigou could stand her own against the woman, but if she wouldn't listen to her the visit would be pointless. No, she would go to Buruma, a few more sensible person. She could tell Chichi of Junnana's plan, and perhaps find a way to abort it.

A moth flew by her hand and she instinctively caught it, with a movement so fast that few eyes would have been able to follow it. She felt the tiny thing beat its wings futiley against her hand-no, the movement censors imbedded in her artificial skin recorded it and sent it back to her brain.

She remembered revelling in this feeling. Having something trapped in her clutches, its life in her hands-seeing the fear in its eyes-his eyes, her eyes-before she snuffed out that life, laughing.

She also remembered her little girl chasing butterflies, finally catching one, and staring in awe as it stayed in her cupped hands, rejoicing in the life she held before she let it free to live out that life.

She opened her hand, watched it flutter away into the glare of sunlight, and went on her way.

It was several minutes before she arrived at Capsule Corporation. The door was open, and she stayed there and watched four people argue, two of which caused her to feel a shock that her face allowed none to discern.

i What the hell is he doing here? /i Her question was soon answered by the argument between the two who belonged here-apparently, the Torankusu of the future wanted as normal a life as possible.

Rather like she did.

"It's worth it."

She'd heard enough by now to disagree with the young man-to young, it seemed, but Saiyajin seemed to age more slowly than humans, anyway.

Of course, that was more than she could say for herself.

"So, living in deceit ever single second is worth it, huh?"

Torankusu's reaction didn't surprise her nor catch her off guard. She held her ground as he spun, chi alighting around his form.

"Jinzouningen." It had been a long time since she'd heard so much hate in one word.

She didn't flinch. Just stood there, unmoving, staring straight into the face of the glowering warrior.

"Trunks, no!" Buruma, the younger one. She was still beside Bejita, but seemed very close to walking up to her son and pulling him back.

He didn't turn-he was to smart for that-but he did answer.

"What do you mean, no? How could you have allowed this thing to live? After what she tried to do, after what you i know /i she did to us?" He was near shouting. His hair flickered from lavender to golden, his face drawn in an ugly snarl, his stance as tight as his clenched fists.

"I didn't do anything to you," Juuhachi said, her own tone far calmer, if annoyed. As if she didn't have enough to deal with, now she had to deal with Bejita's son throwing a temper tantrum. She frowned, the first expression she'd had since she had arrived.

"Now shut up and let me talk to your mother."

"You're not going near her," Torankusu growled, sounding far to similar to his father when angered. It might have frightened her, as she knew how powerful he was seven years ago, let alone now, but only one thing scared her anymore-and no matter how he looked right now, she knew he wouldn't harm her family.

"Trunks, it's all right!" Buruma yelled, finally stepping toward him. Her future self looked at her incredulously. She was standing behind her son but slightly to the side, and Juuhachi could see her.

"How can you say that? She's a monster!"

"She's different now, okay? She-"

"She killed everyone we had left!"

Juuhachi could also see the silent tears falling from her eyes as she shouted the words, the way her body shook, how her face seemed to grow older before her eyes. She took a small step back; the emotion made her uncomfortable.

The other one, the younger Buruma, took her hands and looked her directly in the eyes, speaking with a softness that was in stark contrast to her usual nature, but with an underlying sterness that also shaped her expression.

"No, she didn't. This Juuhachigou didn't kill anyone we love, all right? Bejita's still here, even if he's not being any help at all-" she sent an angry glance at her lover, but his eyes were focused on his son and he didn't seem to notice. "-and so are Yamucha, and Ten Shin Han, and Gohan, and Kuririn."

Juuhachigou smiled slightly at the mention of her husband, and then remembered why she was here in the first place.

"Buruma," she said, ignoring the man in front of her, despite his murderous glare and the power she could...not feel, but detect, "I need to talk to you. It's urgent."

"I said-" Torankusu's words stopped abruptly when his father put a hand like stone on his shoulder. Juuhachi raised an eyebrow at him but he paid no heed to her.

"Torankusu. Power down." Bejita spoke now, as his mate attempted to calm her aged double. Juuhachi couldn't see him, but she didn't hear him take any steps closer. She imagined his unrelenting glare, his arms crossed sternly across his chest.

What a drama queen.

i It must take a lot of will power not to turn around and glare at him /i , Juuhachi mused, for Torankusu still didn't move.

"No. She-"

It was then that Bejita himself became Super Saiyajin, and in his voice was the authority that was his birthright.

"Now, boy, before I make you."

Juuhachi herself would have turned and slapped him, but Bejita had a power over his son that caused him, albeit reluctantly in this instance, to obey him. His low ponytail regained its former colour and fell back to his shoulders, and his eyes returned to their normal state, but he didn't relax for a second.

"You'll get gray hairs that way," she drawled, crossing her own arms much more casually as she shifted weight to her left foot. "Anxious about nothing." He didn't say a word. Just kept glaring.

It was getting on her damn nerves.

So, like with most things that irritated her, she resumed ignoring him. She looked past Torankusu at the younger version of his mother. She didn't speak until Buruma had taken her eyes off her counterpart-eye contact was important. She'd known that before she ever pondered her humanity.

"It's about my brother. He wants to-"

"Experience the joys of education?" Buruma smiled wryly.

"Yeah, he coerced me into helping." Juuhachi let her eyes widen, as it generally helpd people to get a visual of what others were feeling.

"What? Why the i hell /i would you do that?"

"Watch it," Torankusu growled. Buruma touched his shoulder.

"It's all right, Trunks. Juuhachi's my friend, and I'd probably be yelling at me right now, too." Before he could protest, her attention was focused on the cyborg standing in front of them. It occured to her that their positions probably weren't helping the tense situation any.

"How about you come sit down in the parlor and we'll talk about it?" Buruma had already turned and started walking before she'd finished the sentance. She could almost feel Bejita rolling his eyes.

A certain cyborg was doing the very same thing in his own, far more modest home as he watched downright nauseating home videos. The fact that the two smiling, cooing parents on the screen would later die in a horrible fire did little to comfort him, but he clutched the news article by his side anyway. Sitting cross-legged on the floor amid a sea of paperwork had its advantages.

Amelia and Jared Anderson, dead of smoke inhalation.

House in ruins, belongings burnt beyond recognition.

Children Daryn and Crystal Anderson missing, presumed dead.


End file.
